Solitary Compassions
by idk-i-like-cats
Summary: Sadstuck AU. Roxy is a lonely prostitute who lives for the night scene and low-lying street crawlers who come to feel the thrill of the chase. Her world is drastically changed when a striking man with orange eyes pays her for friendly conversation. M for heavy drug and alcohol abuse. DirkJake and one sided DirkRoxy.


**Chapter One**

Her mouth was burning. Fire licked up her legs in the form of spilling alcohol and groping hands to pull down her dress. Forty dollars. All it took was forty dollars to lose what little inhibition she had left.

At least the vodka numbed the pain. Pins and needles, a light head and cotton mouth, and she was on cloud nine with a wad of cash in her purse. Whoops. Her bra was on the floor, soaked in sweat and spit from drunk kisses that pulled the most depraved acts from the depths of her shallow core.

He smelled like cologne. Cologne and beer, and now his clean white shirt was stained with the wine she'd stolen last week and was just now digging into. If she pulled a thin-lipped smile and flashed a little leg at the cashier, she could sneak anything under her coat. Maybe she wasn't as sleek and sly as she thought she was. She wasn't anything. She was a thin shell underneath the dirty foot of the night scene and scarred and left for dead.

Dead as her insides were stirred and shifted, thankful she wasn't able to conceive, not only because she was paid to be a slut, but because any child related to her was doomed to eternity.

An eternity whoring herself to the low-slinking scum of the earth. He had finished, was putting his tie on, pulling a jacket over his frame. He cast a look at her over his shoulder, not that she could see, because she'd lost all contact with the world after her second injection. Eyes blurring, leaking and trailed with mascara and dried substance, a wad of money was cast down and landed on her damp wrist.

Another girl reached for it, sniffing and huffing. Like an animal, detached and wild, she shrieked and lashed, securing the two bills in her tight grip and knocking the other girl off the large mattress, courtesy the man who'd cracked her one rung down the latter descending into hell.

Hell was what she would receive when she arrived home after a quick shower and reapplying of makeup. If she could find customers on her way back, she'd be able to afford the rent that was to be placed in her waiting palm. She was two, no, three away from keeping her bedroom at Jane's. She could barely form words with her liquid lips to the men that stayed behind.

It was all behind her now. She had gotten her rent money and that was all. Stumbling to hail a cab, she twisted her ankle on the curb leading up to the apartment. It was a humble building of slate brick and oak doors, which she slammed open and held onto as she retched onto the kitchen floor.

"Roxy? Is that you?" Jane's voice was muffled in the distance, and she could imagine her tying the satin string of her robe as she fumbled to put those ridiculous glasses back on and demand she clean up her sickly mess. "It's four in the morning."

"Janey, I threw up again…" she could feel the painful lump in her throat, choked with vomit and tears, as she sobbed and collapsed in a pile of her own filth.

"God, not again. Come on, Roxy, let's get you cleaned up. I'm going to call Jake, alright?" She was heaving the blonde up to her watery knees, hiccupping and crying as she was stripped naked in the bathtub by her dear friend and the water pooling at her ankles.

"I got the rent, Janey…it's, um, in my purse, but I think, I, uh…l-left it in the hotel. Just give me tomorrow, Janey, okay?" She wasn't listening. She was sitting on the closed toilet, arms and legs crossed as she talked into the phone. She could almost remember Jake. He was Jane's boyfriend in college. Were they still dating? She wouldn't know. They never talk. She bathes her and feeds her and keeps a roof over her drunken head, and in return she vomits on the floor and pisses herself and cries. "Janey, listen to me…."

"Jake will be here in a few minutes to help out, okay? I'm going to go clean up your mess and I want you to wash off. I'll be right back, I promise."

As the chubby girl pulled her hands through her hair, sighing, Roxy pawed out and mewled for her to return. The water was mid-thigh, stifling and too hot. She dawdled with the droplets on her knees, running a chipped, month-old manicure over them, watching as they fell down and collected more. She wished she could be like the water. Alone at first, but meeting with her friends and all falling to an ultimate and undeniable common. There was something very reassuring about the permanence of water to her.

She was out of the tub now, being gently patted dry by Jane, a frowning Jake in the back with knitted brows shaking his head and adding comments. "She's so skinny, Jane. That's two more needle marks. Look at those bruises. Bloody hell. She looks awful."

"I know, Jake. I'm trying my best. It just gets really hard. I have to look after her and myself, and pay her half of the rent most of the time…" her voice was cracking, now. Even though the drunken girl felt awful for her friend who tolerated too much for her, she couldn't form words with the world slipping away. "Jake, can you go get her some clothes?"

He was used to this scenario. Roxy waltzes in, waking up Jane, vomits and/or pisses herself, starts crying, gets a bath, and is dressed in pajamas by either him or Jane.

A pair of cotton underwear made their way up her thighs and fit snugly around her bony hips. A warm, worn shirt was pulled over her still-wet hair, curls sticking to her sweaty cheeks and suffocating her shallow breaths. "Okay, Roxy, let's get you into bed."

She couldn't understand how her room could get so messy when all she did was sleep and get dressed in it. However, with Jake supporting her left and Jane her right, they stumbled and did a clumsy dance to dump her onto the small twin mattress, sheets spotted with cat faces and splattered stains of sickly yellow vomit from nights passed. A thin, pink blanket was pulled over her now shaking body, not only from withdrawal, but the thought of going to work in the morning.

"I don't want to, Jane…" she whimpered, tugging at her robe. "Don't make me go."

"You don't have to, Roxy." She was sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking the covers around her thin frame.

"It's the only thing I _can _do." The blonde, actions of the day crashing down like a wave of hot lava, stirred, and gave a shallow laugh. "I can't get another job with the way I am."

"Don't say that. You're talented." Jake had chimed in, hands in the pockets of his pajama pants, hair mussed from sleep and eyes drooping from lack of it. "One of the most talented girls I've ever seen, no offense, Jane," he added, the steaming girl casting an incredulous look at him.

"Thanks. You guys are good friends, to lie like that." With a wry smile, she was given to the dark world of sleep, the looming day approaching tomorrow chewing endlessly at the back of her mind.

**AN: Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC and my drunken/stoned acts are a bit off, I'm too young to drink legally and drugs are not my forte. If anyone has any tips, please contact me (pleaseomg.) Also, I'm kind of new to the fandom so don't beat me up! Enjoy! **


End file.
